Soldier Boy
by IPaintEdward
Summary: Bella plans a Valentine's surprise for her soldier, and gets the surprise of her life.  Rated M because, well, you know.


A/N This was my entry for the Valentine's Day Countdown hosted by the lovely and talented BreathofTwilight. Psst . . . she's also the one that corrects my mistakes and tells me that it is okay to continue writing. LOL And I love her for it!

Disclaimer: The lovely and talented Stephenie Meyers owns everything Twilight. Me? Just multiple copies of her books and a few memorabilia and a fascination with all things Rob. So, on with the show, shall we?

**Monday, February 14, 2011**

Damn, where does the time go? Edward will be calling in just a couple of hours. Well, he won't be calling, exactly. We have a date . . . on Skype. He's always so conscious of holidays and birthdays. This is the first Valentine's Day we've been separated. He's always managed to find a way for us to be together. All the way through college and into his med school, even his residency, he always found a way to be with me on Valentine's Day. But this year . . . this year he's overseas. I'm proud of him for wanting to serve his country, to help his fellow soldiers when they've fallen on the front lines of this crazy war, but I miss him so.

We have a standing Skype date on Fridays, but we added another for today, just because it _is_ Valentine's Day. He's never missed a Friday date unless he's let me know before. Sometimes we just talk, and I get to gaze at his perfect face, watching the loving expression bloom when he first sees me. That will never, ever, get old. I can actually watch the stress and sadness dissipate while we talk. Other times, things get just a little bit . . . oh, shall we say, randy?

Although I love that he misses me, misses my body; and even though he's there and talking me through it, telling me what he would be doing if he were here, telling me where to put my hands and what to do with them, it just isn't the same. My body still aches for him. He tells me that, even though watching me, hearing me tell him what I would do were he here with me is fantastically erotic, even though he has some powerful orgasms during our 'sessions', he still aches to feel my body against his; to feel my arms around him; to feel my heels digging into the backs of his thighs.

Ah, well. He'll be home soon. Only a few more months and his tour will be over. I have to believe that he will be coming home to me, that nothing will happen to keep him from doing so. Otherwise, I'd simply go insane. He is my life. My reason for being. Without him, I wouldn't care to go on.

Gahh! Enough with the maudlin stuff. I need to get ready!

I enlisted Alice's help the other day; I'm hopeless when it comes to shopping, and she's the shopping queen. I needed to get something special for our Skype date tonight. I want to surprise Edward, take charge of our time together, so to speak. So, Alice to the rescue. I have a brand new, sexy babydoll negligee, matching high-heeled slippers with maribou, and a few new toys Edward might like to watch me use. While I was at the toy store, I picked up a few things I'd like to try on Edward when he gets back, as well. Just thinking about it gets my girly-bits in a twist.

But now, now I'm running short on time, and I have to get everything together, organized, and get _me_ ready, too!

I pull out the red tablecloth that we always use for Christmas and spread it out over the foot of our bed. It will make a nice backdrop for what I have planned. I unwrap the new toys I bought and wash them carefully, stashing them in a little box beside the bed, out of sight of the webcam, checking to make sure what the scene would look like with the camera.

Now that the stage is set, I set about getting myself ready. First on the agenda, a nice hot, steamy bubble bath to relax. Even though this is my Edward, I always get nervous when I think about Skype sex, and let's be honest; that's what I have on my brain, right now. I'm going to take control of this evening and live out one of Edward's fantasies for him. Candles are lit, their fragrance soothing, along with the warm water and bubbles . . . ahhhh. I can feel the tension leaving my muscles. Thinking about my plans begins to arouse me, and my hands move of their own accord to my breasts, kneading them gently. I realize what I'm doing and scold myself. I need to keep my UST at as high a level as possible. No relieving that tension right now. The scene I have planned will be that much better if I'm horny as a hog in rut. I won't start overthinking what I'm doing.

When I'm finally wrinkled as a prune, I decide it's time to get finished getting ready. Standing here, naked, dripping, warm and relaxed, I grab the fluffy towel and begin to dry myself. The soft fibers of the towel remind me of Edward's hands skimming across my skin, lightly touching me everywhere. I get lost in the daydream and memories of our many times together. The man knows how to worship a woman's body. Soft touches, feather-light kisses, long, slow strokes of his tongue . . . I snap myself out of the reverie. I'll never get ready at this rate.

I finish drying off, pushing all those memories back, and focus on the here and now. Wrapping the towel around my torso, I attempt to do something with my hair. I do like my hair, but sometimes I think there's just too much of it. My arms begin to fatigue as I wind the long dark locks around the curling iron, over and over again, creating soft curls. Edward loves my hair down, flowing in dark ringlets down my back; but for tonight, I think I need it to be more controlled. So, I compromise. Half up, half down; I pull the front of my hair away from my face, leaving small curls to frame it. The back still hangs loose and long down my back.

Now, for the makeup. I don't ordinarily wear a lot of makeup, just some blush, mascara and lip gloss. Tonight, however, I want a little more of a sultry look. So, in addition to the basics, I put on a little smoky eye shadow and liner, blending it smooth around my lids, a little darker at the corners of my eyes, giving me a bit of a 'come hither' look. I also play up the lip gloss a little, using a bit darker, a bit redder, color than normal. I still don't look like a pin-up girl, but a little more sexy than usual. At least I think so.

The time is getting closer for Edward to sign in, only 15 more minutes. I run out to the bedroom, double check all my preparations, and turn on the computer. I sit at the desk, waiting for the machine to boot up, and let my eyes trail over all the pictures of us on the wall above the monitor. Some are just of him, a few of me, and lots of us together. High school graduation; the trip to Aspen where I learned to ski, well, sort of; our trip to Hawaii when Em and Rose got married; Edward in his lab coat with Dr. Edward Cullen embroidered on it; so many memories.

The computer finally signals its readiness, and I double check the camera angle again. Everything is ready, except for me. Since Edward has always liked me in blue, I have on a blue negligee. I know it doesn't really go with the red tablecloth, but, hey! It's Valentine's Day. Need some red, right? Sliding my feet into the slippers, I declare myself ready. Just in time, too. Edward should be signing in any minute.

I sit off to the side, out of the camera's range, because I want him to just see the scene first. Then I'll make my 'grand entrance.' I wait.

He'll be on any minute.

I check the computer. It's fine.

I wait.

Where is he?

I wait.

He's late.

Oh, god!

He's late!

Tears spring unbidden from my eyes as I begin to envision all the worst scenarios as to why he hasn't signed on. I can see him lying beside a road, bloodied and broken. Or in a trench. Or in the bombed out remains of the hospital. The tears begin flowing in earnest. _No! Not my Edward, I wail to the void that has suddenly sprung up in my heart._ I cannot allow myself to believe that. He is fine. He has to be fine. There's a reasonable explanation why he hasn't signed on yet.

I force myself to calm down, dry my tears, touch up my makeup and wait. I tire of sitting on the chair, so I move to the bed, stoically sitting . . . and waiting. He's still not there. At some point, the fatigue gets the better of me, and I lie down on the bed . . . waiting. Unaware, I fall asleep . . . waiting.

"Bella, darling." It's Edward's voice in my dream. Just like I remember. Smooth as the smoothest silk, soft as the softest velvet as his voice caresses my name. "I love you, baby. Happy Valentine's Day."

This registers. I wanted to hear those words so badly from his lips, tonight. Tears begin to fall, once again, even though I'm still sleeping. Fingers wipe them from my eyes and cheeks. I moan. Even in my dreams Edward takes care of me.

"Bella, baby? Wake up."

What? Wake up? My eyes fly open, only to be met with dancing green ones.

"Surprise!"

It's my Edward. He's here! In the flesh! The tears, which were just leaking before, begin to pour down my cheeks, and I throw myself into his arms. After all the things I had visualized happening to him, to have him here, healthy and whole, is just more than I can handle. Sobs wrack my body as he holds me close, stroking my hair and shushing as he rocks me.

I pull away, gazing up into his face, "You're here? You're really here?" I ask, dumfounded. "I'm not dreaming this?"

He reaches down to my exposed thigh and gives a little tweak, pinching me.

"Ow!" I shout, then dissolve into a puddle of giggles.

Emotions of all sorts are coursing through me. Relief that he's alright, anger that he didn't tell me he was coming home, love – because I just love him, and a little bit of disappointment. I want to yell at him and kiss him at the same time. I settle for kissing him.

So I do.

All over.

His eyes, his nose, his cheeks, his ears, and most of all, his lips. I could get lost in his lips for days. Years.

After about my fifth or sixth round of kissing him all over, he pulls away, laughing. "Did you miss me?" I want to box his ears.

"Are you really asking me that, soldier?"

"Hmmmm," he moans around my lips. "I suppose not." And he deepens the kiss.

His tongue sweeps along my bottom lip, and I part mine to him. Finally, I'm tasting the luscious taste of Edward again. It's been so long. I revel in the flavor and just the feeling of having Edward in my arms. And his strong arms around me make me feel safe and oh so very loved. I could sit like this forever, lost in his kisses.

Suddenly, I need to see my man. All of him. "Stand up!" I shout. "I want to see my handsome soldier in his hot uniform."

He laughs, but obliges me by standing at attention at the foot of the bed. This man is hot in anything, but in his uniform . . . gah! I sweep my eyes up and down his lanky frame, from the top of his cropped hair, down over his chiseled jaw; I can see the hardness of his chest through the uniform. By the time my eyes reach his pants, they've begun to tent; my perusal arousing him. The tenting reminds me of what my intentions were for this evening.

I rise from the bed, trying to look coquettish, looking up at him through my lashes. I smooth the blue babydoll over my body, lingering over my breasts, watching his reactions. He's still standing there, just watching, licking his luscious lips. I try to walk seductively, hoping my penchant for clumsiness stays at bay, over to where he's standing. I put my hand on his shoulder and walk around the back of him, dragging my hand over his back, then around the other side and over his chest. His breathing is picking up, becoming harsher and more labored, matching the state of arousal I can see in his pants.

"You got a pistol in your pocket, soldier?" I purr seductively. "Or are you just happy to see me?"

As much as I love seeing him in his uniform, right now, I want to see him out of it. I begin unbuttoning his shirt saying, "Stay right where you are. You understand me, soldier? Don't move." With each button I release, a little more of my man is revealed, his undershirt clinging tightly to his well-muscled chest. I run my fingers inside his shirt, playing over his pecs, teasing his nipples under the thin cotton of his undershirt, eliciting a low groan from deep in his chest.

Taking my time is pure torture for me, and I'm sure for him as well. But it will so be worth it. I pull both shirts from his pants and push his uniform off his shoulders, leaving only his thin undershirt. I run my mouth over the shirt to his nipples and blow warm air through the shirt and nibble a little on either side as I slide my hands up under his shirt, pushing it toward his chest. He reaches down and grabs it, pulling it off over his head and tossing it . . . somewhere.

"Come 'ere," he growls, cradling my head in his hands and seals his lips over mine. It's a frenetic kiss, all tongue and teeth, sloppy and wet, and wonderful. I try to give as good as I get, but fear it's a losing battle. The man is a master. I feel wetness pooling between my legs, as his hands slip from my head down to my shoulders, further, down my arms until he can reach around to grab my ass. He slides one hand down my thigh, pulling it up and over his hip, the other pulling me closer, nestling his uniform-clad erection between my legs, right where I want him most, all the while assaulting my senses with his mouth and sounds. Low moans and dirty talk, wet kisses down my neck to the top of my barely covered breasts are creating a need within me unlike I've ever felt before.

My hands are busy; feeling every inch of him I can reach, attacking the belt of his pants, straining to unlatch it to get at the button and zipper beneath. I need him so much. Finally, they give way, and I push his pants toward his knees, freeing his throbbing erection. He pulls my other leg up, and I wrap myself around him, rubbing against his erection, trying to create the friction I need so badly.

"Baby, I need you so much," he murmurs in my ear. "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid this is going to be hard and fast; I just can't stand it any more. I promise I'll make it up to you later."

"Just do it, soldier. I need you just as much. Hard and fast sounds good to me," I stammer through my lust-filled daze.

He turns me toward the closet door and pins me against it with his body. With one hand supporting my ass, he reaches in with the other and pushes the g-string of my babydoll aside, grazing my clit and plunging two fingers inside.

"I love how you get so wet, so quickly. So ready for me," he says softly, as he pumps his fingers in and out. "So ready."

"Always, for you," I moan as his expert fingers massage that place within that makes me see stars. I feel my orgasm swiftly approaching . . . and . . . they're gone. I moan my disbelief and frustration, only to be cut short as he fills me completely with his beautiful cock.

"I need to feel your pussy pulsing around me," he growls, retreating and filling me over and over as my butt bounces against the closet door. Hard and fast. Full and empty, then full again. With little warning, my body clenches with my orgasm. I feel as though I'm falling into the stars, bright lights surrounding me. Slowly the lights break apart as Edward continues to pound into me.

"Bella, how I've missed that. You are so beautiful. I love you so much." Edward's voice is husky and deep, his breathing ragged. I feel his erection grow still larger and harder, and I can tell he is approaching his own release. The thought of him gaining so much pleasure from my body starts the spiral, yet again.

"Harder, Edward. I love it, I need it," I say, my breathing again ragged and irregular. "More."

He fills me one last time with a shattering thrust, and roars my name as his body stiffens and he releases into me. The pulsing of his cock inside me sends me off into oblivion, once again. We stand there, breathing heavily, him leaning against me in the most delicious way, as we catch our breath.

He finally releases my legs, and I stand on my own, shakily. My legs hardly want to hold me up. Edward backs toward the bed, pulling me with him, and collapses. I land on his chest with a 'whump', and he smiles at me. That same panty-dropping smile he's used on me so many times.

"Welcome home, soldier," I breathe, as I roll off to the side of him. My body is not wanting to follow too many commands, right now, but I don't want him to suffocate because I'm lying on top of him.

He rolls to face me and kicks his shoes and pants off. "Now, about this lovely little number you're wearing . . . was it for me?" he asks, laughing softly.

"Of course, silly. Who else would it be for?" I answer, huffing slightly. "I bought it to surprise you for Valentine's Day. Instead, you surprised me!"

"Did you like my surprise?" Again with the panty-dropping smile.

"What do you think, soldier?"

"I think we're gonna have to try that again, soon," he mumbles as his hands begin to explore my breasts, very delicately inching the babydoll away from my body.

"I _do_ have some other surprises for you, but they can wait," I suggest, thinking about the toys I bought for when he came home. _He's home!_ I don't care how long I have him, or when he has to return, it doesn't matter in this moment. I can no longer contain my joy and roll him back onto his back.

"Soldier, I have plans for you . . ."

E/N Funny thing about this story. I wrote it, never having even dated someone in the military. I grew up as a Navy brat, however. Since writing this story, I've been out on 3 dates, with 3 separate guys, that have been in the Army. Go figure! LOL


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